Boot-Moving Magic
by Claire Jefferson
Summary: Arthur didn't react as one would think he would. He didn't start screaming at Merlin for lying to him for years. He didn't even call the guards to take him away. He simply stood there, staring at his manservant, blinking far more than was necessary. ONE SHOT!


**Nothing special, rather random. I just wanted to write it. Merlin is almost over and it is making me SO SAD!**

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Arthur didn't react as one would think he would. He didn't start screaming at Merlin for lying to him for years. He didn't even call the guards to take him away. He simply stood there, staring at his manservant, blinking far more than was necessary. He then pointed slowly at a chair and uttered, "sit" before expressionlessly sitting down on the opposite side of the room, on his bed. Neither of them moved, or spoke, or even breathed too loudly.

Merlin very slowly sat down in the chair, cautious to say the least. And like that they stayed for quite some time.

They'd entered the room so quietly, not speaking to anyone as they went up the stairs in a quick march. They entered the room, one after the other. Shut the door, faced each other, and stared. The past events ran in their heads like water from a spout. Fast, almost frantic, but crystal clear.

Finally Arthur spoke. "Well, this is unexpected."

With a snort, Merlin finally stood from the chair. He approached Arthur, who was deep in thought, and leaned against the nearby wall so that he had a good look at the king's face.

Merlin wasn't reacting as one would think he would either. Actually, he was quite calm. He was giving Arthur space and time, observing him as he thought it all through. He watched with actual amusement as Arthur fit all the puzzle pieces together. He wasn't afraid. Not really.

Finally Arthur looked at him, not as if Merlin was some sort of horrible criminal, or freakish creature, but as if he was looking for answers. His eyes were wide and he shook his head slightly. "You…a sorcerer..."

"Warlock," Merlin corrected calmly and offhandedly, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Warlock," Arthur nodded in agreement, correcting himself and then going silent. He blinked a few more times and then looked back up at Merlin. He surveyed the boy quickly, and then looked away again. "Huh."

"Yeah," Merlin sighed and looked around the room slowly. "Did you happen to see what I did with your boots? I was cleaning them only a big ago."

Arthur pointed his thumb to behind the door of his closet without looking, keeping his eyes on the wall as he thought.

"Thanks," Merlin said and instead of walking over to them, he flicked his hand and they came to him.

Arthur looked up with bewilderment as the boots began to clean themselves and Merlin just watched them lazily. This wasn't the first time he'd seen Merlin do magic, far from it actually. The past few days had been hectic. But now, finally after everything, they had a chance to talk alone. Merlin yawned a bit and rubbed at his right eye and then turned back to Arthur.

"You ready yet?"

Arthur was taken aback. "Ready for what?"

"The questions and answers," Merlin replied as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "You must have questions for me!"

Arthur stared. Well of course there were questions he had. "You've never tried to hurt Camelot or anyone inside it?" But he knew the answer to that.

Merlin looked up with almost boredom. "No."

There was a pause. "Well okay then," Arthur said simply and went silent again. "This changes everything…doesn't it?"

Merlin shrugged. "It doesn't have to."

Arthur sighed as if he was very sad about the words that came out of his mouth. "Right, we can just go on pretending you aren't the most powerful man in the world and you can continue cleaning my socks…"

Merlin let out a brave chuckle and somehow it made the whole atmosphere feel a load better. "Well if you'd rather clean _my_ socks, I'm sure we could work something out."

Arthur snorted and looked up to meet Merlin's eyes once again. "All this time and you've been a sor—I mean, Warlock. I can't believe I didn't know."

Merlin pushed himself off the wall. "Yeah, well you aren't the most observant of people. But I forgive you."

And that must have been what did it because Arthur sprang up to stand and stare at Merlin. "_You_ forgive _me?"_

Merlin smiled but it was smaller this time. "I know I have a lot to answer for. But can you really blame me?"

Arthur suddenly looked as if he might yell, his face going a bit red and his eyes flashing dangerously. But as quick as that look had come, it was gone. He shrugged this time and sighed. "No, I guess not." And then his expression softened and his eyes dropped. "It must have been hard."

Merlin nodded in understanding and let his hand go up and rest on Arthur's shoulder. He didn't miss the way Arthur flinched. Or the way that his glance went to his sword quite suddenly. But he also didn't miss the fact that Arthur let him put his hand there and just stood there. And then Arthur melted into the touch. As if it was what he needed, familiar caring from Merlin.

"It wasn't too hard," Merlin said truthfully. "I knew someday it would all change. But—but I was still scared"

"So what now? Something special about to happen I should know about?"

Merlin took his hand back and tilted his head to one side. "There are a lot of things you should know about. But they can wait. For now, how about we talk about my magic? Would you like to see some?"

Arthur blinked in response.

"Magic. Would you like to see some magic." Merlin said, realizing Arthur hadn't understood.

Arthur immediately took a step back, his eyes widening wildly. "Like what you did earlier?"

"No," Merlin said suddenly, putting up his hands defensively. "I mean like moving boots through the air, not making an army of soldiers burst into flames."

Arthur winced at the memory of how he'd found Merlin had magic. Days had past and he'd stood next to Merlin, but it was as if it wasn't Merlin at the time. It was as if it was someone else. He talked with authority, but pledged to the King of Camelot: Arthur himself. He showed power thorough the compassion, and stood with what demanded respect.

But now Merlin was Merlin again. He stood with a slight slouch, smiled with a small defiance, watched with a hidden wisdom, laughed with a knowing mirth. This was Merlin. This magic now, this was Merlin. What he'd seen had been the warrior side of Merlin, but that did not mean he was indeed all that there was.

Arthur nodded his consent. "I suppose boot-moving magic would be alright."

Merlin beamed and looked around in wonder. "What should I do? Oh the possibilities are endless!"

Arthur grinned. He'd been right; this was Merlin. He acted like a child on Christmas morn, wonder, excitement. But Arthur knew of the wisdom, the power, the greatness, and destiny hidden inside.

And then words of a foreign language were being said. But they were not like the one's he'd heard Merlin shout earlier. Before, they had been loud, rushed and urgent. Now, it was neither angry or frightening. It sounded almost poetic.

And then, Arthur was no longer standing on the ground. He let out a terrified yelp and Merlin burst into laughter. But Merlin was in the air too. Both of them stood, a good five inches off the ground.

"Boot-moving magic," Merlin giggled and then he bent his knees and jumped.

With wonder and excitement in his heart, Arthur watched Merlin dive through the air as if it wasn't air at all, but rather it was water. He did flips and kicked himself off the walls.

Arthur finally could take it no more, he too bent his knees. And shot up like a rocket. He was frightened at first, clutching his bedpost to keep himself from going too high.

"It's fine," Merlin protested. "I won't let you get hurt. I can put you down whenever you like." That was then followed by another swan like dive from the boy.

Arthur hesitantly let go off the post and let himself drift to the side. And then he began to walk across the room, gliding really, on nothing but air. And then he smiled. And after a short while he was laughing. And soon after that he was in hysterics.

For years to come, when the idea of magic itself being evil was an old dream, they'd still chuckle at the memory. And whenever Merlin began to do spells that were not of any help to Camelot—or anyone for that matter—but were merely for fun or for ease—they'd call it _boot-moving_ magic.

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**I have two other one shots and one ongoing Merlin stories if anyone intrested! Please review! Merry Christmas!**


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